CHAPTER II
Glänzende Rüstung
Weiss slowly opened her eyes as bright sunlight hit her face. She stared up at the ceiling for a moment, trying to remember the last thing that happened to her. She moved to sit up when a sharp pain ripped through her side.
That's right. I should be dead.
She turned her head, each movement sending searing pain through her neck and shoulder muscles. She was in a room of some sort, probably an inn from the looks of it. She spent the next hour or so completely immobile, trying to fight through the soreness engulfing her from head to toe.
What happened?
She remembered the flight, the landing, and the wreckage. She had failed to save those people and found herself pursued by hundreds of Grimm. She was about to be killed by that swarm when she blacked out and now she was here.
She mustered the strength to sit up, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. This whole procedure sapped all of her strength and sent pain through every muscle, bone, and whatever else made up the human body.
While regaining what little strength she still had, she examined her surroundings. The room was quite large, though it wasn't exactly the kind of lodging she was used to. But she couldn't think about all that anymore. She no longer deserved the Schnee name and thus none of the benefits that came with it.
To her right was her suitcase, crushed by her fall yet mostly intact. It was no wonder it hurt so much landing on it when her aura had been depleted. Myrtenaster leaned against the wall just beside her suitcase.
Her clothes were tattered from the fight with all those Grimm. She looked at her left sleeve. There was a long gash in the fabric, exposing a scar that extended from her shoulder down to just above her elbow.
When did I...
That's right. She was bleeding just before she had passed out. But how in the world was that wound healed already?
The door to the room opened and she instantly went on guard. The pain and fatigue vanished as adrenaline flooded her system. She quickly retrieved Myrtenaster and prepared for a battle.
"Ah, you are awake," the man said as he shut the door behind him. "And I see you have regained your strength."
His face was familiar to her, but she couldn't figure out where they had met.
"And you have your sword...or, whatever it is, in your hand. I must assure you, I am not your enemy."
She looked at him more closely. Yes, this had to be him. This was the face of the man who was carrying her through the sky just after she should have died. Was he an angel? Did she really die and this was the celestial being meant to guide her to the afterlife?
"Who are you?" she demanded.
"Do forgive me," he said with a bow. "I am Sir Bedivere, Knight of Kameloth. I once served King Arthur the Pendragon as one of his personal knights."
Knight? King Arthur? What was this, a fairy tale?
"You're...a knight?" she said.
"That I am, milady."
"M-Milady? What?"
"You are my lady, are you not?"
She reddened. "Excuse me, but I don't even know you."
"And yet you called to me the day prior, yes?"
Huh? "No, I didn't call to you. I called out to summon..."
He waited for a response.
"...A knight."
"Yes, and as you can see, I have answered your call. I am here at your service as you have requested, madam."
"Wait-wait-wait-wait-wait, what?"
"Is there something the matter?"
"You are the knight?"
He raised an eyebrow.
"No. You can't be. You look nothing like him!"
"I, uh, I beg your pardon?"
"Th-The thing I fought and then summoned was ugly! You, uh, well, you, I mean..." She was not about to call him "handsome." No way. Not out loud, anyway.
"Not-ugly?" Sir Bedivere said.
"Yes! I-I mean, no! That's not...!"
He chuckled. "Milady, I can assure you, I mean you no harm. I merely answered your summon and am at your service until the day I draw my last breath. The oath of a knight is something that can be broken by no man. Even magic has no power over this oath."
She stared at him for a moment. When she saw him yesterday, he was clad in gleaming armor, which was curiously absent today. He was dressed now in nothing more than what appeared to be a traveling tunic, one fit for nobility, and yet without the lavishness that might be attributed to most noblemen. This knight, if he was truly a knight, was one of the humblest she'd ever met.
"If you do not mind, milady," Sir Bedivere began, "I would like to know your name."
"Oh, y-yes, of course," she said. "Weiss. Weiss Sch...Schnee."
"Lady Weiss. That is quite the beautiful name."
She reddened again, her hesitation at providing her family name wiped away in an instant. "I would like it if you didn't say such stupid things in the future."
"I'm sorry, but what do you mean by 'stupid things'?"
She shook her head. "Never mind. Just, keep your distance, okay?"
"If that is what my lady wishes, then it shall be done."
"Would you stop with that 'my lady' nonsense? It's making me feel weird!"
"I do apologize."
"And stop apologizing!"
"I apo...lo..."
There was a bit of silence between them.
"How would you like me to address you, then?" Sir Bedivere asked.
"Weiss," she said. "Just Weiss. Nothing else added to it."
"Very well."
"And...how would you like to be addressed?"
"As you have granted me permission to use your given name, it would bring me great honor if you were to return the favor and address me by my given name as well. Bedivere shall suffice."
"Very well, then, Bedivere."
He gave her a bow. "I've brought you something to eat." He made his way to a nearby table, setting down a few takeout boxes from a local eatery. "See if you can stomach some soup first."
He poured the contents of one of the containers into a bowl. He pulled out the chair and motioned for her to take a seat. Weiss looked at the table before turning back to him. He had a pleasant smile on his face, a smile that accentuated his inviting eyes, which were hazel in color, a light contrast to his straight, ear-length, brown hair that fell equally to all directions.
She gave him a courteous nod before accepting the seat, leaning Myrtenaster against the table beside her, and trying out the soup. This ordinary flavor wasn't what she was used to, having been pampered all her life with the most exquisite of seasonings, but it was quite refreshing. She imagined this must be the kind of soup that would conjure images of the "homestead" to those who had actual experiences of such a thing.
"Some bread?" Bedivere said as he cut up a loaf for her.
"I can do that myself," she snapped back.
"Of course," he said as he stepped back from the table. A few moments of silence passed before he spoke up again. "Does my presence bother you?"
"Yes!" she shot, immediately retracting it with, "No, it doesn't. You doesn't. I mean, you don't bother me. It's just..."
"I also noticed that you hesitated when you introduced yourself."
He even noticed that, huh? "I just...nothing. Forget it."
"Is there something about the Schnee name that does not sit well with you?"
She hardly knew this guy. Heck, she literally just met him. She had no reason to share such intimate thoughts with him, and yet, being this close to him, it felt like she could tell him anything. It was almost as though he already knew what was bugging her without her having to tell him.
"Do you feel you do not deserve to bear the name anymore?"
She slowly turned to him.
"You mentioned something about that as I carried you here. At first, I had thought it was nothing more than the incoherent ramblings brought on by blood loss and combat injuries, but you continued to mumble similar things as I put you to bed. You...mentioned something about failing yourself and failing your family and how you deserved to die at the hands of those monsters."
She looked down at the ground.
"Weiss, am I not living proof that those things you said are untrue?"
She turned her eyes back to him.
"Had you truly believed those things, would not your summoning me have failed entirely? And yet, here I am."
"You're wrong..."
"Perhaps. Perhaps not. Perhaps I am the response to your thoughts, the hope to your despair, the light to your darkness."
"The one behind the mirror..." she whispered.
"Mirror?"
"It's nothing."
"'Tis never nothing, Weiss. Should you feel the need to offload any burdens you may bear, I shall be there to bear them for you. Or, if you prefer, with you."
She turned back to her food. This was the kind of service she, as a Schnee, had come to expect, but she no longer deserved that. She couldn't be a Schnee anymore. She had set out to restore honor to the name and failed spectacularly at that effort.
And yet, she could not ignore Bedivere's words.
The rest of the morning was filled with silence. Weiss was able to finish the soup and some of the bread over time, but none of the more solid food—meat, pasta, even fruits and vegetables—would go down.
She stood up, but the pain was back again. She reached for Myrtenaster to use as a crutch, but instead of the hilt of her weapon, she found her hand in the strong grasp of another's hand. She looked to her left, face red as could be, staring up into the hazel eyes of Sir Bedivere, Knight of Kameloth.
"Please, do not overexert yourself," he said. "Accept my help. Please."
She looked down before nodding. She hadn't realized it before, but it really was difficult to stand. That battle definitely took its toll on her body. After her aura was broken, that should've been the end for her, and yet she somehow survived. It seemed luck hadn't abandoned her completely. Not yet.
"I would not suggest lying down after having all that soup," Bedivere said with a chuckle. "We would not want you to, well, you know."
She chuckled, too. "I actually wanted to go outside."
"In your condition?"
She picked up Myrtenaster with her free hand. "You said I could lean on you, right?"
He smiled. "Yes. Please lean on me any time you need."
Weiss accepted his offer and they went to the door together. Before today, the only other people she allowed herself to lean on were her family and Team RWBY. For now, though, she needed to rest.
Bedivere opened the door, leading her to the banister that overlooked the rest of the sleepy town down below. He let go of her hand, allowing her to lean against the railing on her own. She looked outward toward the settlement.
It was a small town within Mistral's borders. From what she could tell, this place didn't serve any real strategic or economic value to the kingdom at large. It was one of those small settlements that occasionally popped up in areas that weren't infested with Grimm. But the Grimm she fought and nearly died to were not that far away from here. So long as the place remained emotionally positive, they should be fine.
"So, these, Grimm," Bedivere began, leaning backward against the rail beside her. "What exactly are they?"
She looked up at him. He stood almost a whole foot higher than her.
"On the surface, they look to be nothing more than mindless monsters," he continued. "But I suspect there is something deeper than that."
She recounted the age-old story of the origin of the Grimm, how the younger of two deities created them as the dark counterpart to the good creations of the elder deity. Although technically alive, Grimm biology was a complete mystery to modern science. They did not require sustenance at all and continued to grow in strength and intelligence as time went on.
"They're attracted to negativity?" Bedivere said.
"Yes. Any kinds of negative emotions, fear, sadness, hate, all that kind of stuff."
"A vicious cycle. One Grimm attacks, people panic, more Grimm come, people panic more, soon there is an entire swarm of these things."
"Not just that. Even after everyone's killed, their negative sentiments can stay in an area and Grimm will continue to congregate there because of it."
"But they can be killed."
"Of course. But they don't leave behind a body, so no one's ever been able to study them."
"As in, they disintegrate after death?"
"Immediately upon death."
"I see."
"No one knows where they actually come from either. Even though we've undoubtedly killed thousands of them over the years, they seem to spawn infinitely."
"And these walls, do they help in keeping the Grimm out?"
She looked around at the town walls. "I doubt it. Most Grimm can climb or hop right over. Others are strong enough to break them down altogether. And then there are those that fly."
"Yes, I did encounter that enormous bird as I extracted you from the woods."
"You fought the Nevermore?"
"No, I could not put you at risk, not after you had been so gravely injured."
"How did you get away, then?"
"I stayed low to the ground and moved as quickly as I could."
"And they didn't chase you?"
"You said they were attracted to negativity. I stayed positive."
She looked at him. "Is that supposed to be a joke?"
"Not at all. As a Knight of Kameloth, I am highly trained in the art of combat. I would bring shame to the honor of my fellow knights, and to my king, if I were to permit myself to panic at the sight of mere monsters."
She couldn't tell if he was bluffing or not. But he couldn't be. Not if he really was able to get himself and her out of that mess.
"Also," she said, "I was injured. How is there nothing more than a scar where my arm was bleeding?"
"I was trained by the best combat medic I know, a man who goes by the name of—"
There was an explosion in the distance. Weiss quickly brought Myrtenaster up to bear, fighting against the ache and fatigue. The town rapidly began to fill with panic, which would bring even more Grimm to them. She would not fail. Not this time. She'd save this town and everybody in it or die trying with her goddamned sword in her hand.
"You need to rest, Weiss," Bedivere said.
"The town is under attack!" she said. "I can't just sit here and do nothing!"
"I understand. That said, I am your knight, am I not?"
She looked at him.
"You summoned me for a reason. Because you could no longer fight for yourself. Is that not correct? Allow me to fight on your behalf this time."
"But, what can one man do against an army of those things?"
He grinned at her, breaking his previously pleasant demeanor and transforming it into one of unwavering valor. "Lady Weiss, allow me to demonstrate for you today my worth as a knight, as your knight."